


Teenage Dirtbag

by shortystylee



Series: A Series of Song One-Shots [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, One Shot, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 04:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12403068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortystylee/pseuds/shortystylee
Summary: Everyone's got their part to play in high school, and while Sansa knows exactly who she is on the inside, the harder part is making Sandor realize she's not the airhead popular girl everyone thinks she is.Inspired by Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus.





	Teenage Dirtbag

Most of the girls that Sansa knew would've been upset if they weren't able to sit next to their boyfriends in a class they shared, but she couldn't think of a worse time than sitting beside Joff for 45 minutes of class time. He was already busy spending his time going back and forth between making impolite comments about their drafting teacher, seeing how many times he could spin around in the chair before it slowed down, and throwing those pink little erasers at Podrick, a very nice, yet rather shy, student in the class who was unfortunate enough to sit in the desk in front of him.

 

He never paid attention in class or had any inclination to turn in his assignments, so she wasn't quite sure how he wasn't failing or in trouble, but she figured it had something to do with the new library wing with his grandfather's name on the placard in front of it.

 

He never bothered with her in class either, though it didn't matter to Sansa. She'd decided to take the drafting class, which was notoriously 99% male, since she already knew she planned on going to interior design school after graduation. At the beginning of the semester, she sat in the back of the classroom, complete opposite from all her other classes, but it was ridiculously difficult to see the board for shorter students in the back, so she found herself in the corner of the back row. After the first few days, she realized it wasn't difficult for her to see and she took comfort in the fact that there was no other row of students behind her, able to see any mistakes she might be making on that day's assignment. She was also surprised that drafting, unlike most of the other subjects she took, wasn't coming naturally to her.

 

"Sandor... Sandor...." she said quietly, after Mr. Davison had finished his lecture and tasked them to start working on their current assignment. Their teacher had always allowed conversation in class, as long as it never got too loud.

 

He looked over, raising his eyes to question what she wanted. Sansa never talked much to Sandor Clegane outside of class, but she definitely knew who he was. He plagued her thoughts, more often than she knew was right, especially after last year when she was at volleyball practiced and caught a glimpse of him working out in the weight room. _It doesn't help that he dresses like Judd Nelson in The Breakfast Club. He's got that bad boy, leave me alone attitude, but I'm not sure if it's just for show or not._ An image of Claire Standish meeting up with John Bender in a supply closet flashed through her head and it was all she could do to not blush for no apparent reason.

 

"Well, I'd noticed that you always seem to understand Mr. Davison's lectures, and I might've seen your grades on the CATIA test we had last week, and I was thinking that, maybe, if it's not too much of a hassle --"

 

"Spit it out already. You tryin' to ask for help?"

 

"Yes, I am. I didn't do very well on the first CATIA portion and I thought if you weren't doing anything after school today maybe we could stay in the computer lab and you could help me."

 

Sansa was more than surprised to hear him agree to help her without skipping a beat. "Fine, I'll help you. But not here. Desktop I've got at home has the same version on it and is twice as fast as the school computers, we can work there."

 

"That's great," Sansa started, nervous and excited all at the time to be invited to his house, "but I don't have a car."

 

"Hmm. Thought all you richies got Mercs on your 16th birthday, guess I was wrong." He paused for a second, which Sansa recognized as him just trying to get a rise out of her. She had two older brothers, she knew how this worked, so she just shrugged her shoulders. "Well, guess I can give you a ride. Meet me at my car after school. Red Buick in the fourth row."

 

XxXxX

 

School let out at 3pm and Sansa was standing at his car promptly at five after. She'd rushed off from her friends at her locker to meet him there. He'd nodded at her in acknowledgement when she met him at his car in the parking lot after school, and they had sat in silence for the first part of the car ride, Sansa staring out the windows and trying her best to think of something to say. She thought about bringing up his comment from earlier. Everyone knew her family was well off and while they certainly didn't want for things, but with six children to look after their parents did a great job of making sure every one of them was down to earth. There were no TVs in each bedroom, no bathroom for each child, and certainly no cars as 16th birthday presents. Her two older brothers had bought a car to share from their Uncle Benjen, a bright blue fifteen-year old Toyota, which went with both of them when they moved away to school two years ago. Sansa had her license, and there was an extra car she was able to use after school and on weekends, or whenever her younger siblings needed driving around, but her father wouldn't let her drive to school until next year when she was a junior and she could drive her sister as well. She figured, though, that it wasn't worth it to argue with Sandor when he was going to help her. When she recognized the opening chords to _Fire in the Riverlands_ on the radio and saw Sandor start to keep the beat on the steering wheel, she was excited to realize she found something they might have in common.

 

"Oh, you like the Brotherhood without Banners, Sandor?"

 

"Shit yes I do. Pretty much my favorite, but I 'spose you want me to change it to 97.7 or whatever the hell that pop station is." He reached over and started to turn the dial.

 

"It's your car, you don't have to do that, and besides --"

 

"I know, I don't have to. I doubt you wanna listen to this. How'd you even know who they are? I bet it's that hellraiser little sister of yours, isn't it?"

 

"... um, yea. It's because of Arya. She's always blasting them... Our mother just hates it." she lied. _Well, the part about mom isn't a lie_. "You can change it back, I don't mind."

 

"It's fine, Little Bird. Not too much farther to go."

 

They rode in silence for a couple more miles, and the neighborhood suddenly got very familiar. They'd turn off of Aegon's Way onto a side street, and she definitely got the feeling she knew where she was.

 

"Ya know, Sandor, these houses look really familiar. I think I've been here before."

 

"Wouldn't be surprised. Your boyfriend Joff only lives two streets over. You can hear him revving the engine on that douchebag car of his all the way on my block."

 

She noted right away the distaste in his tone when he spoke about Joff. She'd never heard someone refer to Joff's red Camaro like that before, but it made perfect sense when she thought about it. It _was_ a particularly obnoxious sounding car. "l take it you're not friends with him?"

 

"Hah, yea, right, Little Bird. As if Joff would lower himself to be friends with me. He tolerates me since we're both on the basketball team and Coach Selmy doesn't take shit from anyone, but no, he's not my friend."

 

He pulled the car into the driveway of an unassuming split level. It was non-descript, the kind of place you wouldn't give a second glance at when you drove by, but the siding and roof were well-kept and you could still see the diagonal lines from whoever cut the grass recently.

 

She was getting used to things happening in silence, and allowed herself to simply follow his lead when he got out of the car and went inside. Sandor led her to the downstairs level, a family room area with a large L-shaped couch, television, and wooden computer desk off to the side. He dropped his school bag down on the couch, started up the desktop, and walked up stairs. She did the same with her bag, then sat down in one of the chairs by the computer. A minute later, Sandor returned, setting a Diet Coke in front of Sansa without saying a word, before opening the regular Coke he'd brought for himself and opening up the CATIA program on the computer.

 

"How did you...?

 

"It's what you always drink in class. Don't think I don't see Miss Perfect breaking Davison's 'no drinks in the classroom' rule."

 

She smiled widely, as if someone remembering that she preferred Diet Coke was the romantic gesture of the century, and it clearly made him a bit uncomfortable. He quickly opened his notes from class, and dove into going over them. He went over the lesson, talking about the intricacies of the program in much more detail than their teacher ever did and let her handle the mouse and work through one of their previous projects that she'd received a poor score on.

 

About forty-five minutes into his lesson, she stopped him.

 

"Sandor, I'm sorry, but can we take a break? It's making a lot more sense, but I think my eyes need a break from the computer screen for a few minutes."

 

"Whatever you want," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Hungry?"

 

She knew he noticed the way her eyes lit up at the thought of food by the way he raised one eyebrow. "Oh, gods, yes! Mom usually puts out snacks after school for us so we'll leave her alone while she's making dinner, so I'm pretty much starving by now."

 

Back upstairs, she watched him go to work in the kitchen, pulling out a box of crackers, a cutting board and knife, then a block of cheddar from the fridge, which he started to cut into cubes. She didn't actually expect a cheese plate, maybe just some cookies or chips, but she wasn't about to complain.

 

"So, how come you didn't want to stay and work at the school? It's got to be expensive to buy the software --"

 

She was interrupted by the front door swinging open, hitting the wall loudly, and crashing shut.

 

"Sandor! Sandor, I'm home. Are you here?" There were loud footsteps and the voice of a young girl coming from the hallway. Two clunks came next, which she assumed were shoes.

 

"Yes, I'm here, in the kitchen," Sandor yelled back, sending a glance at Sansa and continuing to cut up pieces of cheese. "Calm down, girly, we've got a guest."

 

"Oh, hi," the little girl said when she came into the kitchen and saw Sansa standing there against the counter. She looked to be around eight years old, with dark brown hair tied in messy braids, reminding her of Arya at that age, and dark eyes that matched Sandor. She wore a bright fuchsia windbreaker jacket and had on black leggings with white daisies on them. "I'm Emma. Who're you?"

 

Sandor walked to her and kneeled down on the linoleum, helping the young girl out of her fall coat. "This is Sansa," he started, "a, um, friend of mine from school. We're working on some school work in the den, so why don't you take your snack and start your homework at the kitchen table?"

 

She nodded and took the paper plate full of Ritz crackers and cheese cubes over to the kitchen table. Sandor made up a second plateful and they headed back into the den. He put the plate down on the coffee table and they both sat on the couch, Sansa grabbing a handful of cheese before she tucked her legs up and under herself.

 

"Emma's the reason we needed to study here," Sandor explained. "There's no one else to watch her, and our mom doesn't usually get home from work until later. Her school'll flip out if there wasn't anyone here to watch her when the bus drops off, and we can't afford to send her to latch key."

 

Sansa nodded in understanding. They'd been lucky to always have older siblings around to watch the younger ones after school.

 

Around five-thirty, the front door swung open again, this time with a much less force, but there was another female voice ringing through the house asking here everyone was. Sansa finally noticed the time on the clock, let Sandor know that it'd probably be best if he could drive her home, explaining that her mother gets particularly cross if any of her siblings are late for dinner at six. She quickly met his very frazzled mother, obviously just off work, for a few seconds before they left. She had the same dark brown hair as Emma, hers dappled with quite a bit of grey and pulled up into a messy bun. She was wearing non-stick shoes, a white button down, and still had one of those half aprons that diner waitresses always wore.

 

"You're awful quiet, little bird," he said out of nowhere. He'd tuned the radio to a classic rock station this time and neither of them had said anything for about fifteen minutes.

 

"Oh yes, because you're such a chatterbox," she replied. Even the slight bit of sass caught him off guard and she took the opportunity to ask what she'd been dying to most of the afternoon. "Why do you call me that, Sandor? Little Bird."

 

"It's because you chirp. When you ask questions in class, or when I hear you talking to Joff beforehand, hells, even the few sentences you said to my mom today. Everything that comes out is predictable, like you've been taught what songs to sing. You're like one of those caged birds at the pet store. I know exactly what you're going to say before you say it. Could probably guess all your favorite things too if I wanted to."

 

He pulled up into her driveway just as he'd finished talking. Even though she was still thinking how to reply to his comments, she was feeling a little bit embarrassed at the size of her family's sprawling brick colonial compared to the modest house where Sandor lived. Though he didn't say a word about it, she still felt like he was judging her.

 

She was a second away from leaving and not saying a word, but she stopped when her hand was on the door handle and turned towards him, resting her hand on his forearm to get him to look at her.

 

"I know that might be what you think of me... probably what everyone thinks of me," she started. "But I can guarantee you there's more to me than meets the eye."

 

"I'd love for you to prove me wrong."

 

_I'd love for you to do all sorts of -- Shit, Sansa, pull it together_ , she told herself.

 

She smiled, the sweetest, so saccharine it'll rot your teeth smile she could give him. "Challenge accepted," she replied, then grabbed her backpack and went inside, flashing him one last smile as she closed the front door and he pulled out of the driveway.

 

After dinner, the rest of her homework, and some much needed television time, she specifically picked her faded Brotherhood t-shirt, which she'd saved her allowance for and bought at their last Westerosi tour, pulling it out of the dresser to use as her pajama top that night.

 

_This little bird is going to prove you wrong, Sandor Clegane. I'm going to prove you wrong._

 

XxXxX

 

She texted him between classes the next morning, politely thanking him for the help, asking if there might be any classes he needed her help with. Sansa was very surprised with how quickly he replied to her texts, and even more surprised that he actually said he wasn't doing all that great in chemistry. After that, about two days a week after school she'd be waiting by his car, even going as far as to start sitting on the hood once she figured out he found it amusing, making some joke about Tawny Kitaen, who she quickly Googled once he started driving, and was rewarded with a genuine laugh from Sandor when he saw her blush furiously watching the old Whitesnake video on her phone.

 

Usually, they'd go over either the new lesson from chemistry or drafting, have a snack with Emma when she stormed in the house, and then he'd drive her home once his mom got back from work. They found out they had the same free period at school and started to spend it in the library, Sansa quizzing Sandor on the periodic table, and both of them getting shushed by the old librarian when they'd forget about chemistry and end up just talking for the whole hour.

 

She was gradually getting more information about him to come out, and she knew it was working the same on her side as well. She hadn't talked about how she liked the Brotherhood yet, instead she wanted to find out if they had anything else aside from one band in common. As it turned out, they did, and Sansa thoroughly enjoyed the looks he gave her whenever he found out something new about her that surprised him. He'd made that face when she talked about how much she loved going north to their family's cottage in Winterfell, hiking and camping in the cool northern summers, and especially when she noticed the old N64 tucked away under the television in the den, mentioning how she hadn't seen one in ages, and how her older brothers hated playing MarioKart with her, since she could kick their butts from here 'til next Tuesday.

 

"I think the Little Bird is full of bullshit," he'd said. "I doubt you could beat me."

 

"You're on," she replied. She watched his jaw drop as she walked over to the television, unhooked the Wii and got the N64 set up. About a minute later, she walked over and handed him a controller. "Let's go. Best three out of five? I'll even let _you_ pick the tracks."

 

He'd nodded, they'd fired up the game, and Sansa proceeded to sweep him, all three wins in a row on Banshee Boardwalk, Toad's Turnpike, and Rainbow Road. She couldn't get the smug look off her face for days.

 

Another day when she was getting into his car in the parking lot, she'd almost sat on a case of CDs in the passenger seat, and made it her mission to see exactly what else he listened to. It was mostly what she'd expected - a little Enter Sandman era Metallica, Tool, Rage Against the Machine. She tried to poke fun at him a little bit for the Tori Amos CD she found, but he just mumbled something, Sansa only catching the words "fucking amazing", so she let that one go.

 

"Oh, I have to put this one in." She pulled the CD out of the sleeve and switched it with whatever was in the player now. "I know we're almost to your house, but I couldn't pass up a listen."

 

"What could I possibly have that you love so damn --" He stopped short when he heard the opening to Hell's Bells. Sansa thanked the gods they were at a red light, or else he might've ran straight into the car in front of them when he looked over at her. "Did you just choose to listen to AC/DC? Or do I have someone else in my car?"

 

"I told you there was more to me than you'd assumed, Sandor," she explained, reminding him of their conversation weeks earlier. "My dad and his brother Ben absolutely loved AC/DC. When mom would go visit her sister, my uncle would come help watch all of us kids and the two of them would blast their old rock albums... the drums are my favorite. I used to take all the pots and pans out of the cupboards and sit on the kitchen floor, banging on them with wooden spoons until my mother couldn't take it anymore and made me go in the garage," Sansa laughed, drumming along with the song, going across from the passenger door, to the glove box, then her knees, and finally to Sandor's arm as the cymbal.

 

"I take it he's your favorite then, Phil Rudd?" _Well, good to know he isn't shocked enough to become mute.I know what's doing though... name-dropping to see if I actually know my stuff. Two can play that game._

 

"No, actually. He's awesome, but he's got nothing on John Bonham," Sansa replies as his car pulls into the driveway. She looks over at him since he hasn't replied yet and finds him looking at her, and she curses the gods for not having the power to read minds.

 

Not a week later, Sansa found herself in Sandor's bedroom, sitting on the floor with her back against his bed, studying chemistry. Emma had showed up with a gaggle of friends and Sandor immediately remembered that she had a playgroup that afternoon. It was pouring down rain outside, so instead of sending them out to the swing set in the backyard, he fixed up the Wii for them in the den.

 

When he'd suggested they study in his room, Sansa thinks she'd never felt so nervous in her life. Why exactly, she wasn't sure. _We're not going out and I'm technically still with Joffrey, so he won't try anything... we're alone all the time studying anyways, so it's not that_. She followed him up the half flight of stairs, first door on the right, and when he reached over to flip the light switch she realized what it was - his bedroom was _him_. The place with the most amount of him she'd been allowed access to so far, except for their chit-chat in between studying and on car rides. She made mental notes of everything, that his bed was neatly made with army corners but his dresser was piled with folded t-shirts and stacked of CDs and DVDs. When she noticed that he had the same Brotherhood 2013 world tour poster, she found that she was barely able to contain her smile. He noticed and asked what was so amusing, but instead she stumbled on her words and said something about being impressed by all his basketball trophies.

 

It'd been almost two months since they'd started helping each other, and both of them had managed to get much better scores on their mid-terms than either had thought possible before. She'd showed up on his porch the Saturday afterwards, a basket full of lemon cakes and brownies, suggesting that they celebrate by stuffing their faces and playing N64, saying she'd even go easy on him this time, and she could've sworn that the way he looked at her was _exactly_ how she wanted him to, but she still felt she didn't have enough to go off. Sansa had been seeing less and less of Joff, which really suited her just fine, but she knew he was getting angry with her for the, albeit, very lame and increasingly unbelievable, excuses she'd been making to avoid spending time with him.

 

Everything came to a boil on a Monday in the library. Sandor had a chemistry quiz the next day and Sansa had made flashcards for him, quizzing him at their normal table in the group study area. It was after school, but they were both still there, trying to get in some last minute studying before his before he had to be at basketball practice. They both looked up when they heard the doors crash open, only to see a very angry Joffrey walking straight towards their table.

 

"There you are! Do you have any idea how long it's taken me to find you? Gods, Sansa, I don't know why you waste your time on him. Like you tutoring him in chemistry is gonna help anything. He's just some dirtbag, definitely not gonna need chemistry for whatever shitty factory job he gets after graduation." Joff stopped for a second, picked up Sansa's book bag and shoved it towards her. "Come on, mother wants you to come over for dinner tonight. Tell Selmy I won't be at practice today, Clegane. I've got better things to do tonight."

 

Joff was loud, just like always, and she knew that Sandor heard him. All she wanted to do was stop him, yell about how much she enjoyed her time with Sandor and never with him, that he wasn't a dirtbag, and if he was, well, they had so much in common that it must mean she was one too. But she didn't. Joff had grabbed her by the wrist and was already started to pull her away from the library table, barely giving her enough time to gather up the rest of her things. She mouthed 'sorry' to Sandor and let herself get pulled away.

 

XxXxX

 

"Sandor, wait," she said. After the run-in with Joff earlier that week in the library, Sandor had texted and said he wasn't going to be able to help her anymore. He'd been avoiding her, leaving drafting class as soon as the bell rang and hauling it to his next class. She finally saw him on Friday afternoon, when she'd gone to her locker during lunch. She had a clear view of the staircase and out of the corner of her eye she saw him going downstairs from the third floor. She quickly slammed her locker, running and trying to get his attention. She said his name a few times, but he never turned. It was loud enough, she knew he could hear her. "Wait!" She finally raised her voice and ran down the staircase towards him. He stopped abruptly and turned to her, causing her to almost run straight into his chest.

 

"Geez, could you not hear me?"

 

"I stopped, didn't I?"

 

"You did, and that's good. I need to ask you something, a favor... of sorts."

 

"What could you possibly need from me? Help in drafting class again? You'd better make it quick before your boyfriend comes looking for you like last time."

 

"I know you don't think much of me, you've got no reason to, we're just classmates, acquaintances really... but I'm not like Joff and his friends, not at all. I'm not nasty to people either, not like him or those other girls," she explained. She'd stopped looking somewhere between their feet and the linoleum tiles about mid-sentence, bringing her eyes up to meet his, which were already on her. "And besides, he's not my boyfriend anymore."

 

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?" he asked, and she could tell he was starting to get a little impatient. "I thought I'd never see the day. Whatever could've gone wrong?" _Sarcasm, just what I needed_ , Sansa thought.

 

"I finally made it clear that under no circumstances was I going to have sex with him, so he broke up with me, just like that... honestly, if I'd known that'd do it I'd have told him so much earlier," she laughed. "It'd have saved me all the time I spend fending off his attempts at groping me."

 

"Dammit, Sansa, I don't wanna hear about that. He's a dick, I could've told you that the first day of school. Now tell me what's going on. I know you didn't stop me just to say that."

 

"You're right, it's not just that..." Sansa said. She was nervous all of a sudden. She'd had this plan of asking him to go to the Brotherhood concert with her for almost a month now, ever since they announced their new tour dates. "I've got two tickets to the Brotherhood concert on Saturday, at that venue downtown. You wouldn't wanna go with me, would you? I know you like them and all and --"

 

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down. I've got so many questions right now I don't know where to start."

 

"Alright, let's go slow," she started. Out of nowhere she grabbed his right hand, giving him a firm handshake. "Hi, I'm Sansa Stark. I'm a Virgo, recently single, and I used to be shit at drafting until I started to get tutored by this amazing guy. Problem is, he thinks I'm just like everyone else, and I've got no clue why, since we've got so much in common. I know his favorite band is The Brotherhood, and it's mine too... which is awesome since I've got two tickets to see them tomorrow night." She paused, pulling her volleyball tournament hoodie over her head, and she saw the way his eyes looked at her, but she wasn't sure if it was from the surprise of seeing her in an obviously well-worn Brotherhood tour t-shirt, or from how she knew that the t-shirt rode up when she pulled the hoodie off. She didn't say anything yet, just bent down to grab the two concert tickets out of her bag that she'd dropped on the stairs, and then closed the gap between them in the staircase. With one step between them she was just barely shorter than him.

 

She grabbed his hand again and pressed one of the tickets into her palm. "Don't say maybe," she warned, looking up at him with a smirk on her face.

 

He didn't answer. Sansa barely had enough time to notice his eyes flick from the concert ticket in his hand and back up to meet hers, before he closed the open space between them and was pressing his lips to hers with a softness she hadn't imagined from him. She'd always tried to figure out a way to avoid Joff's kisses, but that was the last thing on her mind. All that she could think about was how exactly to get her feelings across, or how his hands were rough yet surprisingly gentle where they held her face in place, or the way she shivered when she felt his tongue sweep across her bottom lip, or _oh, thank the gods no one ever uses this stairwell..._

 

"So, wait," she asked, looking up at him with a straight face once they'd parted, "That _was_ a yes, right?"

 

"Still not sure, Little Bird?"

 

"Dunno, I might need you to kiss me again."

 

He did.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a couple notes - Hell's Bells is the first track off AC/DC's 1980 album Back in Black (Phil Rudd was the drummer when it was released). John Bonham is the drummer from Led Zeppelin, who died in 1980. I put Tori Amos in here as a Sandor guilty pleasure since I've met a TON of people who are huge into Tool that also love Tori Amos (plus she looks a bit like Sansa).


End file.
